Flying High
by Novadestin
Summary: Millicent preferred not being one of the more liked Slytherins, she would rather practice Quidditch anyways; even if it was in secret. Yet, while her late night exercises might not land her on the team, they could just land her the captain...


**Flying High  
**

**Warnings:** Mild Language, Mild Violence, Sensitive Topic/Issue/Theme

**Era:** Hogwarts **Pairings: **Millicent/Montague

Characters: Millicent, Tracey Davis, Montague

**Summary:**

*Written for darkladyofslytherin's 'A Very Slytherin Challenge: Millie' challenge on HPFF* Millicent Bulstrode had never been one of the more liked Slytherins and she kind of preferred it that way. She would rather practice Quidditch anyway, even if it was in secret. Yet, while her late night exercises might not land her on the team, they could just land her the captain…

_She hadn't really intended for anybody to see her play._

* * *

"Millie, you're going to be late!" Tracey called to her from the stairs of the girl's dormitories, but she didn't answer.

Her reflection was mocking her; she couldn't go see him like this! She pulled the blue tank over her head and ruffled through her trunk again. Tracey burst through the door and cursed.

"Millie! Put the blue one back on and let's go!" she said, throwing the tank back at her.

"But it makes me look funny!" Millie protested, reluctantly pulling it back over her head.

"Looking sexy does not make you look funny!" Tracey pushed Millie out of the dormitory and into the common room.

Several people were staring at her, making her feel highly uncomfortable. At least Tracey was pushing her fast enough that it only took a moment to get out into the dark hallway which led up to the main hall of the castle.

"Now remember," Tracey repeated again, "don't _be_ shy, just _act_ shy, and don't do that thing with your hands!"

Millie looked at her indignantly, again stating, "that doesn't make any sense-"

"Just do it, trust me!" Tracey said with a silly girlish laugh and gently shoved Millie towards the stairs. She was having more fun with this than Millie was.

Nonetheless, Millie reluctantly trudged forward, as always, knowing her well-meaning friend would curse her if she turned around. Her pace was slow and fickle, but her feet continued their trudge up to the base of the stairs.

As she stared up at them, delaying the moment she would face reality, Millie thought of how she had come to stand in this spot in the first place. She knew it would only break her heart more if he really wasn't there when she reached the antechamber but, at least for a few more seconds, she could be happy.

Millie recalled that she had left the supplies muddy again; she always seemed to forget to clean them. It might have been a subconscious way of letting someone know her little secret, of showing them that she knew what she was doing. The funny thing was, even if they did find out, she would never say it out loud. Just like she would never say her blood status out loud…

But this time she got caught. He'd had enough of someone sneaking around with their Quidditch supplies and waited to see who it was. He figured it was probably a Gryffindor sabotaging their team and wanted to catch them in the act. Because of that, he was surprised to see it was one of his own housemates who was to blame.

When the alarm went off, Millie screamed so loudly that anyone passing the equipment shed might have thought she had been hit with the cruciatus curse.

"Trying to pretend you're someone famous huh Millie?" Montague had been so mean those first few minutes.

"Nah," she retorted, angry at being caught, "just showing myself that I'm a better player than half your team. Cause lets face it, you're a lousy captain."

"Chubby little girl thinks she's so tough, probably can't even get the broom off the ground," he smirked viciously at her and her whole body tensed. "You talk a lot of crap sure but I doubt you have the guts or skills to back it up under all that…macho-ness."

Millie gave him a death stare, grabbed a broom and promptly thrusting it into his chest, "try me."

"Ooo little oik trying to be brave…"

"Prat captain too chicken for a challenge?"

That did it. It wasn't calling him a prat but calling him chicken. If there was one thing you didn't call the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team it was chicken. Millie knew right where to press, the only problem was that she had done it out of anger. She hadn't really intended for anybody to see her play.

Now she had challenged the _captain_ of the Slytherin team…what was she thinking? The mantra in her head repeated over and over, "crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap…" Millie sighed heavily, she had no choice now, and reached for a uniform.

"Oh no, I don't think so," Montague said when he saw her, "you don't deserve to wear a Slytherin uniform, here." He threw a bag at her containing a practice uniform while he grabbed his own.

Millie pulled the pads on over her clothes in frustration. Normally, she would change completely but not with Montague looking at her, snickering. Still, she could not stop herself from watching him as he removed his shirt.

"No! Stop that! Focus!" Millie told herself. She was determined to prove her words. She had gotten herself into this and would be damned if she gave them another reason to make fun of her.

As they mounted their brooms on the pitch, Montague asked what she wanted to 'prove' to him first. Millie told him to pick, wanting to sound confident, but inside her head she was cursing, "anything but the snitch…"

"Bludgers then," he chuckled and Millie realized that he wanted her to get hurt; perhaps to teach her a lesson about using their equipment without permission. Montague threw a bat to her and howled mercilessly when she didn't catch it.

Millie picked it up as he released the bludgers and kicked off from the ground to get away from him. She was in a fowl mood and beating away at some bludgers, and possibly him too, sounded really good at the moment.

So she let the iron balls take away all of her frustration as she smacked them around the pitch. It was a rather effective form of therapy; the only problem was that Millie soon found that Montague's actions returned her riled emotions mere seconds later.

They stayed up in the sky for hours and came down only after they had used the quaffle and the snitch as well. When they finally did touch back down, neither of them did it pleasantly. Montague landed with a thud and Millie skidded to a halt a few inches away.

"I told you, you're a bloody awful captain! You couldn't even catch that!" Millie yelled, completely cross.

"Maybe if you learned to shoot right!" Montague hollered back at her, absolutely fuming. He knew his words didn't make any sense, but he wanted to yell at her and at the moment that's all that mattered.

"Shoot right?!" Millie looked at him, hands on hips, utterly indignant, "if it makes it in then its right! You just don't want to admit your team doesn't know what they're bloody doing! Crabbe and Goyle always look like they're half asleep and Draco's in on bought talent! You should all be replaced!"

"By who? You? A girl who can't even catch a bat, much less the snitch when it's right in front of her nose!" He smirked, overly smug; like she could ever replace him.

"Hit that bludger pretty good didn't I?" Millie snickered, referring to the one she had sent within millimeters of his left ear.

Montague looked at her for a moment and then, strangely, started to laugh; and it wasn't callous either. "You got something sure, most definitely a big mouth." He continued quickly before she had a chance to yell at him, "it's getting late, we're going to have to continue this on Saturday."

"Saturday?" Millie's mind began to stall on her, it was only Thursday.

"In Hogsmeade, meet me in the main hall and we'll go together." That shut her up, even though she was staring at him with her mouth open.

He smirked, pleasantly content at her reaction, before leaving her on the pitch to go change. Millie had to stand there for a few minutes before she could get her brain working again.

Had he just asked her on a date? Had Graham Montague, captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, just asked her, Millicent Bulstrode, a nobody Slytherin, on a date to Hogsmeade where the whole school would see them?

She almost fainted at the possibility that it was true but managed to walk sluggishly back to the castle and into the Slytherin common room. Thankfully he wasn't there, yet Tracey was and when she saw her friend's look of shock she rushed over.

"Millie what's wrong?" she fretted as Millie sat clumsily in the nearest armchair.

"I think Montague just asked me to Hogsmeade this weekend…" Millie managed to sputter out, still in shock.

"What?!" Tracey yelled so loudly that everyone in the common room looked over at them to see what was going on.

"Will you shut up!" Millie hissed quietly. The last thing she wanted was for everyone to know that Montague was making a fool of her.

Yeah, she thought it was a joke and told her friend as such. Yet Tracey completely disagreed with her and vowed to find the perfect look, something Montague would surely take note of.

As Tracey rambled on, it soon became a very awkward moment for her. Millie had never been much of a 'date' person and talking about all that 'date stuff' made her cranky; she had done her best to block out that part from her memories.

And now, coming to the end of her enjoyable reminiscences, Millie was left standing at the foot of the stairs again with Tracey gentle urging behind her. She knew the time had finally come to face not only reality, but being the laugh stock of the school as well when the truth that this was all a joke came out.

She sighed one last time and then carefully placed one foot in front of the other, walking as steadily as she could up the stairs. Millie kept her head down, still delaying the truth, and instead wondered "why did I let Tracey talk me into wearing such ugly shoes?"

It only took a minute and several seconds for her to reach the platform of the stairs. Millie looked up to meet her fate…only to find him staring back at her with his hand outstretched, waiting for her to take it.


End file.
